Millie,

You said I should write to you. Well, here I am, writing.

The place is oddly empty without you, but to be fair, I've never lived alone before. Anyway, it's better than going back home, though I do find myself swinging around there from time to time.

I sort of found employment. It's keeping me busy. And sane. I'm hoping to take it to a place where I don't have to do much for it by the time you return, turn it into a means for passive income.

I've also started working out again. It has been a very long break, and I'm a bit overwhelmed by how much I've forgotten.

That's about it. It took me much too long to write a few paragraphs. I'm not even sure what you want with these things.

Davyn

♣

Dear Davyn,

I can't believe how bad you are at writing letters. Don't get me wrong, I was very happy to receive an envelope from you. And I'm truly happy for the news. It's good to see that you're working towards a better life. I've always wanted that for you.

What you failed to see, as smart as you are, is that letters are a private means of communication between us. It's better than a phone call because no one can overhear what we write in here.

I can tell you anything I want. Like how Maman is wonderful and so proud of me for my test results. How I've played the song I'm working on to her, and she said it was exquisite. Yes, that song that you inspired me to write with all your negativity. I wish I could show her my painting of you, but maybe it's better that I don't.

Max hasn't given me away, at least not yet, but he keeps throwing hints and jabs at me, daring me to come clean. I haven't told her about us yet. I'm not hiding you, don't get me wrong. It's just...

You're like a hidden flame inside my heart, and I like keeping you to myself just a little longer.

I miss you so much.

The nights are long and cold without you. I apparently need a lot less sleep than I thought I did, and sometimes, I find myself just staying awake. When I do, I remember us. From the beginning, how we used to be. How we are now. It's so hard to believe sometimes. That you could look my way. See me when no one else ever has.

I love you. And I can't believe I never knew how much I needed love until I found you.

Love,

Millie

♣

Dear Millie,

Point taken. I now understand why you wanted to write letters, what you expect from them. It's one of your many romantic fantasies.

I know I said I wouldn't indulge them, that it's not who I am. But I didn't think I was the person I obviously am now.

My last letter was cold, factual, and in dire need of direction. Your answer has given me that direction. It's not about the mundane, it's about how I cope without you.

I'm doing it. Work, training, planning... it helps. But the nights are indeed long and cold without the heat of your body. You're the best medicine for me.

It's interesting to hear about your family, that you're there just enjoying time off and maybe working on your music. I do tend to glance at your last painting. I must admit I'm half tempted to try my hand at finishing it off. Maybe then you'll actually have a complete painting. It's good, though. I'm sure I'd ruin it.

Feelings... Yes, feelings are hard. They hurt. I think it's what I wanted to escape for the most part with you, why I warned you that love is a pain in the ass. Well, now I realize that I would've missed you even if I left you standing there that day in the gym. Except in that scenario, I wouldn't have the solace of knowing that you'd return. Now instead of being miserable, I'm just impatient. Time seems to crawl by, really.

Of course, that gives me more time to work on what I need to do.

Tell me more about your family. The subject is strangely fascinating to me. Did you tell your mother about me?

Yours,

Davyn

♣

Dear Davyn,

Yours? I send you love and you send me yours? What does this relationship mean to you???

Okay, I know I'm exaggerating, and it's deliberate, but come on! I thought we were past that.

I liked your letter. It was a lot more fitting and it was nice to know you miss me, too. Or at least that's what I've gathered. You don't like to be direct with your words, do you? Not about sentimental things.

You can't just write them out. I love you. I miss you. You are the world to me. I wish you were here...

DON'T touch my painting. You would most definitely ruin it, and maybe I'll actually get to finish that one. It is there, and my only project in a place where I spend most of my time. So HANDS OFF.

Yes, I did tell my mother about you. She was thrilled. Maybe a bit less so when Max mentioned that you're the 'bad boy' type. Max is just being a pain in the butt like all siblings tend to be. But the bottom line is, Maman would love to meet you. If you get this fear of commitment out of your bones, maybe it will happen at some point.

I don't know what else to tell you about my family. Maman keeps giving piano and dancing lessons to excited children. Max is lounging around, doing nothing, reading random books on random subjects. He started jogging. I'm thinking it's to outrun you in case he has to. I told him I don't think he could. He seems to like and hate you at the same time, it's so odd.

But I see you've asked nothing about me. Should I feel insulted? Is it part of the whole "yours" thing?

I still miss you. Now more than before as the days stretch into weeks.

I still love you. More than before, because distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes, it hurts. Like truly hurts. It just makes we want to paint. I left all my supplies in school, and I can't afford new ones. Money is really tight.

DON'T TOUCH MY PAINTING.

Love (yes, still love, you jerk),

Millie

♣

My love, my life,

You are such a fool, truly. You think I signed off with 'yours' because I don't love you? I wouldn't be yours if I didn't.

Is this better? Sugary enough for you? Playing into your fantasies of the perfect love letter? I guess I already ruined that with these questions. Or calling you a fool in the first sentence.

No, Millie, you should know better than anyone that I don't have an issue being straightforward.

Yes, I miss you. I wake up and roll over and get a knot in my throat every time I see your side of the bed empty. Because this is your bed as well, and I've never slept in it before you. It's hard to sleep in it after you.

Do I wish I didn't miss you so much? Yes. But also no. Because this only shows that what we started is something meaningful. It shows that when I say I love you, I mean it. You're not some passing fancy. You're it. Is this to your liking? Knowing you've ruined me? That I'm writing romantic drivel because I know it will make me happy? That I do my best to keep you out of my head just so I can get through the day and get things done?

The stages of infatuation are hard. Feeling as if I'll suffocate without you is tearing me apart. On one hand, because I know it's a lot. On the other, the intensity of my feelings is refreshing. I am alive, and I can feel. I can hurt. And I know it's only temporary, and that gives me hope. I haven't felt hope in what feels like forever.

What else do you want me to say? Because I could say a lot in the name of honesty and being straightforward.

That I miss your kisses, the way you abandon yourself to me completely. The taste of your skin under my lips, the way you moan when I hit the right spot. I miss teasing you, making you blush and stutter. I miss the sharp breath you take in when I touch you in places you don't think you should be touched.

I miss holding you against me, the feel of your skin against mine. I miss the sex. I really miss the sex and the way we fit together. The way you move and the sounds you make. The haze in your eyes and the swelling of your lips.

I hate that I don't even have a photograph of you.

Is that what you want me to write?

I won't touch your painting. I don't think I'd be any good at it, and I tend to avoid things I don't excel at.

I think sending you paints would be dangerous, but you may find charcoals and a sketchbook enclosed. At least this way you can draw.

Love (yes, I do love you),

Davyn

♣

I... I have no idea what to say. I don't even know how to start this letter.

I've read yours so many times. Some of the things you've written are exactly what I wanted to hear. Then you reminded me that I am indeed a fool. How could I ever accuse you of not being straightforward, of not using your words when you always have? Much better than me, anyway.

I won't lie. The letter made me blush. You'd probably enjoy that. To know that you made my stomach flutter and my cheeks burn even from a distance. I was expecting things to get more intimate, but not like this.

I'm not even sure how to express the way it made me feel. Shocked. Happy. Because you do say you love me, that you miss me, and between your words, I can read the longing that I feel in my own chest.

I might be a lot worse at saying it, but I do miss the physical aspects of our relationship as well. I miss your kisses. I miss the way you always know how to touch me, what to say, and what to do to make me feel safe. To make me feel alive.

I miss making love to you. Yes, I wrote that down. I can't believe I wrote that down. But I can be straightforward, too.

We really are amazing together, aren't we? It feels like such a waste that we're apart. I sometimes miss you so much, it feels like my chest is empty. Maman has started to notice. She laughs about young love and claims that I'm withering without you. But I see the fondness in her eyes, the melancholy and the pain as she obviously thinks of Papa.

They were so in love, Davyn. Just like we are. And they were happy. Just like I know we will be. I don't want to scare you, but everything seems possible when we're together. I think this is why it's so hard for me to handle not being there. We didn't have enough time. We'd just started, and then I had to go. And while I'm loving the break, the lovely weather, and my family, I feel like this is not where I'm supposed to be right now.

I'm supposed to be with you.

I think I'm rambling. I don't make sense. But there's so much going on inside me right now that I sometimes feel like I can't handle it. I know how it's supposed to be, but this love inside me won't let me think straight. Won't let me feel how I think I should feel.

You were right. Love is hard. But I don't regret it. Because soon enough, I'll be with you again. In your arms, kissing you. Every inch of you. Yes, I said it. I miss you, your humor, your intelligence, and the way you always try to make me better. But I miss us as well. I miss the contact and the intimacy.

I'm counting down the days.

Thank you for the sketching supplies. They're much appreciated, but I didn't mean to complain about money and get you to buy me stuff. That was insensitive of me. You shouldn't have.

You really shouldn't have, because I've started drawing my fantasies, and it makes everything harder.

I love you, and I miss you. I can't wait to see you again.

Yours,

Millie

♣

Dear Millie,

You need to send me some of your drawings.

Also, don't worry about it. It's always my pleasure to feed your artistic side. I can picture you losing yourself in your work, and it's making me want you more. That abandonment I see in you that is only rivaled by how you abandon yourself to me.

Bold words from your side. I like it. And ah, yes. Making love. It has a better ring to it than sex, doesn't it? At least to you. I'm starting to think there might be a difference for me as well.

I agree that the timing feels really off. I know for a fact that we will get to a point when we will be perfectly fine going about our days without constantly thinking about the other. Alas, I think that time might come after we're out of the infatuation stage. Because this is how I feel right now. Infatuated. I just got a taste of you, and then you had to go. It was nowhere near enough. I want more.

Maybe... But I'm getting ahead of myself. I still have work to do, and if you're here, I'll want to give you my full attention. And you need the break from me. The rest. The freedom to be as lazy and as decadent as you wish without me breathing down your neck.

Until then, I will have to make do with fantasizing about you. And if you are imagining it's about dirty things, you are completely right.

I'm not joking. Do send me some of your sketches.

Yours (because yes, I did notice you are mine now),

Davyn

♣

Dear Davyn,

I can't believe I'm doing this despite my better judgement, but here you go. Some of my more recent sketches. DON'T judge me. You wanted them.

And just so you know, I don't enjoy being "free of you". I'd prefer to be very trapped by you instead. It gets increasingly harder to write these letters because they only seem to fan the flames inside me and make me miss you more. Because yes, I do enjoy talking to you, even with your constant snark.

You didn't tell me much about your work (though it's nice that it's keeping you busy). What exactly do you do? Is it at least distracting you? Is it fulfilling?

I feel a bit lost with nothing to do. My mind has relaxed a bit too much after the pressure of exams and I find myself reading trashy romance novels and watching bad TV. And drawing naughty things. I haven't even practiced my piano lately. Maman was right. I really am withering away without you.

She finds it amusing. Max finds it annoying. He's reading business books now and I'm getting a bit suspicious. He's not exactly into school that much, so what is he doing with business books? I tried asking, by the way, and he just shut me out. He's been a bit sketchy lately. I'd think he had a secret girlfriend, but it doesn't fit the subject of the books.

In how many other ways can I tell you I miss you? I've started crossing out the days until school starts. Even I can tell that is completely lame. I need a distraction, but I see you in everything. Infatuation is right. I can't wait to get to the part where I don't miss you with every breath I take. Please annoy me. I want to get huffy and no longer want to speak to you.

I sometimes want to go back to hating you, or at least not liking you very much. But then I remember how even then, you were by my side when no one was. And you got rid of Karen, so whatever happens, hate is definitely off the table for you.

Write to me soon.

Love,

Millie

♣

Dear Millie,

Well then. Your drawings definitely gave me a visual I both needed and didn't need. They're good. So good and so realistic and goddamnit, I really need to bed you right now. Speaking of which, I hear that hate-sex is really good, so I wouldn't feel too bad if you started hating me.

Is this annoying enough for you?

Interesting about Max. Maybe he's thinking about his future, too. After all, you're both about to be seniors, and, unlike me, he might actually want to go to college. I wouldn't call brushing his sister off as being mysterious, though. Sounds like normal sibling dynamic to me.

My job is mostly human resources management at this moment. Running a business is not easy, and a lot of improvements can be made. My father left behind a lot of things no one bothered to handle, so I'm slowly picking up the slack. It does its job of keeping me active.

You need to get back to practicing your piano. Don't lose sight of your dreams. If you don't, I'll make you.

You're right. These letters are getting harder to write. How many more times can I tell you that I miss you and that I want to turn those drawings of yours into reality?

You missed telling me that you loved me in that last one of yours, though. Now I am definitely convinced that you don't. Such a disappointing oversight.

Infatuation, Millie. It's definitely infatuation.

Love (yes, I'm using love because I didn't tell you that I loved you either),

Davyn

♣

Dear Davyn,

I love you.

There, I said it. As a first thing too, so that you don't think it's less important in case I decide to put it at the bottom.

You are SUCH a tease! And I miss that. I miss you teasing me in person. I don't like letters anymore. They're too painful. They always make me want to tear my heart out and hand it out to you on a platter. No more. It hurts to be without you. Why won't this summer end already? It's barely July, and there's an entire month to go.

I still haven't picked up piano again. I just lack the inspiration. Drawing has also stopped because how many sketches can I make of the same thing?

I need to get back into my schedule. I'm well aware of that. As nice as home is, I feel as if I'm wasting time.

So this is your invitation to make me. I'm not doing anything productive. Make me!

Yours (and love),

Millie

♣

Millie,

Pack your bags.

I'll be at your place on August 2 to pick you up. I'm so done with writing letters, too.

I need to see you so that I can tell you all the mushy stuff in person.

Davyn

♣️♣️♣️

This was fun. They're getting so off track, lol. But at least it's getting obvious that they'll be back together soon. How will that go sigh Davyn's real new "job"? You'll get to see soon enough.

Thanks for your support! And don't forget to vote and leave me your thoughts!